The Wrong and The Right
by AugustApollo
Summary: 6 years down the line, Mary and Bash are forced to live in harmony for the sake of their marriages and their nations. But love cannot be undone, cannot be stopped, cannot be taken away. Not even by the command of royalty nor by the power of matrimony.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** Hello, everyone! This is my very first story for Reign. I finished the 16 episodes in one sitting, so it's safe to say that I am hooked. I was so angered by Mary's decision to marry Francis because, although it's a good political decision, it may not be the best personal decision.

This story takes place down the line, 6 years after the events of 1x16. I hope you enjoy the story! Please feel free to read and review!

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, expect the story line that stems from my imagination.**

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_"I don't love you, but I always will" - Poison and Wine, The Civil Wars_

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The hours were long and the day was warm. Irritably so. A long line of citizens were waiting for their turn to raise their concerns to their King and Queen.

"He must be imprisoned, My Grace! He is a thief, caught red handed. A disgraceful ingrate!" yelled a furious merchant, raising his fist threateningly at the thin man in worn clothes next to him.

"He dismissed me unjustly. I deserved my final wage! My Lord, have mercy. My wife and child will die of starvation!" wailed the accused, desperately begging King Francis for his pity.

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a heavy sigh. Mary discreetly placed a hand on his arm to offer comfort. He returned a small, tired smile before placing his attention to the conflict in front of him.

"You, thief, have been caught red-handed. The sentence for stealing is clear. Take him away for imprisonment."

The man wailed and resisted as the guard descended upon him and began to take him away. Francis turned his eyes from the scene and sighed once more, weary of the long day that seemed to have no end. Mary looked on in horror, appalled with Francis' indifference, as the arrested man wept for his family, yelling his pleas.

"Francis, please." Mary said, as she grasped her husband's arm once more. "That man committed his crime for his family. It does not absolve his wrong doing, but what will become of them without him? He was wronged too. He does not deserve this."

"Every thief has a reason for stealing, Mary. Poverty, starvation, illness, poor education. You know that! Are we supposed to forgive every single one of them? What are we to do?" Francis whispered back, clearly irritated.

"We are supposed to ensure that they are fed and educated. We are supposed to allow every sing one of our citizens flourish. These are problems made by the flaws in the system." she harshly defended.

"He is one thief." He exasperated.

"He is one thief in a long line of many who have been given unjust sentences under our noses. It was just bread! It may not make much of difference, but it will to his wife and child." Mary countered, her nails digging into his sleeve.

Another sigh from Francis. He could not deny her logic, and could not deny his guilt.

"Wait." He called out to the guard. "Bring him back. And the merchant too."

Both men stood in front of their rulers once more.

"I believe the sentence is too harsh for a thief of bread. And your kind Queen is concerned for your family." Francis said to the weeping man. Then, he turned to the angry merchant.

"I order you to give this man's final wage to his wife and child. And you," Francis returned his gaze to the thief, "Will spend two weeks in imprisonment. Your family can be assured of your safe and swift return."

The thief fell to his knees, tears of joy raining down his filthy cheeks.

"Thank you, My King! Thank you for your mercy!"

Francis gestured for his to rise, a kind smile blessing his gentle features.

"Thank your Queen. She bestowed this mercy upon you." Mary smiled kindly and nodded at the man, who showered her with praise and hysterics. His joyful cries ensued until he was out of sight.

A royal guard stepped forth in front of the royal couple and, with Francis' permission, was gestured forward to privately converse with the King.

"My Lord, they have returned." Francis' eyes went wide, and his heart pounded hard in his chest, threatening to break the bones. With a single nod of his head, he beckoned for them to be sent in. Mary saw her husband's expression of nervousness and fear. But before she could inquire as to who and what, he grasped her hand tightly. A moment passed and quick, sure footsteps echoed through the hall, accompanied by the rustle of armor.

Five soldiers in heavy metal armor walked into the throne hall, grasping their helmets in their hands. Their faces were filthy with dirt and soil, their necks glistening from the heat of long journey. Leading the group was a dark-haired man with crystalline eyes and a face that gave no expression away.

Sebastian, with a split lip, cut cheek, and nearly-shut black eye, and his comrades stopped before the thrones.

"The rebels have been quelled, My Lord. Peaceful negotiations have been made, prisoners have been taken, civilians have been saved. All is well once more." Sebastian hurriedly said, evidently exhausted and wanting to leave immediately. Francis breathed an audible heavy sigh of relief, and flashed a bright smile at his brother and his wife.

"Thank you, Bash. I knew we could depend on you. You have done well for France once again." congratulated the King. He let go of his tense grip on his wife's hand and applauded his soldiers for their job well done. The room followed their King's lead, and the hall was filled with sounds of adoration. Sebastian rolled his eyes and was about turn on his heel to depart, but Francis was not done.

"We must feast and celebrate this victory, brother! You and our soldiers deserve to be rewarded." Francis walked to his half-brother, clasping his hands, still grinning from ear to ear. Sebastian lifted his worn out gaze from the floor to Francis.

"That is kind of you, brother. But it is our sworn duty to defend our nation. It does not require reward. And this has been a tiring time. My men need to retire and rest. A soldier's job is never done." Bash managed to get out, clearly, with much difficulty. Francis threw his head back in laughter.

"Ah, you deprive them of a feast, Bash!" Francis slapped him on the shoulder. Hard. Bash could barely hide his cringe of pain. This Mary noticed, and the worry that bubble through her made her lean forward in her throne. She wanted him to look at her, but he found the floor so interesting.

"Very well then." Bash said, after a moment of thought. He turned to his soldiers. "Tell the others. Tonight, you feast with the King." Cheers of joy were heard from his men. With Bash's permission, they proceeded to exit the hall and spread the news. Sebastian turned back to his brother, who has not let go of his shoulder yet.

"That is very kind of you, Francis. You did not have to." he breathed out his words as if he struggled to find the air to say them.

"But you deserve it. All of you have been gone for weeks now. I doubt you were properly fed. But knowing you, I doubt you will be there tonight, brother." the fair-haired king teased, and raised an eyebrow at Bash. He clapped his brother once again on the shoulder, but Bash could not contain the pain as the first time. He let slip a pained groan, and Francis immediately jumped back as Mary rushed forward.

"Bash, you're badly hurt!" she whispered quietly, rushing to her brother-in-law's side and grasped him tenderly on his other shoulder. She raised her other hand to his untouched cheek, wanting a look at his cut and his black eye. But Bash swatted her hand away and stepped back in an instant, as if her hands were poison and he'd been burned. Mary's hands fell useless at her side.

"Injuries are collected in battle. I've come away with far worse." Bash said as his eyes fell to the ground and he began walking away from his brother and his wife.

"Thank you for your concern, My Grace," He formally thanked the Queen,"And your kindness, my dear brother."as he nodded at Francis. "Don't expect me at the celebration tonight. I'd much rather rest. I'm sure my own wife shall be expecting me soon." Bash hurriedly stated as he exited the room.

The couple looked on as Sebastian made his quick escape from the room. Once he was out of sight, Francis turned to his wife with a chuckle.

"Always a mystery, my brother is. Bravest man I know." Francis said as he returned to his chair and gestured for the next complaint to be raised. But Mary's hand was still warm, and she could not decide if she had managed to capture Bash's warmth on her fingertips, or if her own blood rushed to the spot to meet his skin. But she could not move from her spot, and she felt herself miss him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: I promise I don't update this fast, unfortunately. I will try for as long as I can. Please READ and REVIEW! As this is my first Reign story, I would appreciate all the feedback I can get.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**. I am just tending to my broken shipper's heart.

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_"She was mine. I was hers and all that's in between. She would cry. I would shelter her and keep her from the darkness..." Sunburn, Ed Sheeran_

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Francis was like his father, Henry, in that he loved to throw parties. And quite a party it always is. The celebration he is hosting for the soldiers' return is already in full swing. An abundance of food and drink along with beautiful women and music created the atmosphere of merriment in the castle.

Francis, who also inherited his father's wandering eye, was preoccupied in conversation with a lively brunette. Mary was on the opposite side of the room, deep in her own conversation with Lola.

The first few years of her marriage with Francis was straight out of a dream: blissful and loving. But as the sparks settled down, both Francis and Mary came to see the many differences between them. These were differences that have always been between them, often the cause of many of their earlier disagreements, even before they were wed. These were difference that they learned to overlook in infatuation, but they could not ignore for long.

Francis was still so adamant about leading by head and not by heart. Inheriting his father's possesive and agressive tendencies, Francis was often distrustful of many and attempted to control Mary, despite being a Queen in her own right.

The months that followed Bash's marriage to Kenna, Francis was still dogged by blinding jealousy. He said he tried to quell it in gratitude for his brother's effort to save his life, but it remained.

Mary suspects this jealousy is the reason why Francis knighted Bash and put him in charge of the military; so that Bash was out of the castle, and away from his wife. Francis denies trying to put his brother's life at risk for the sake of his marriage, but Mary's doubts were not shaken.

As the years passed, a distance between Mary and Francis grew. Mary grew more defensive towards Francis, refusing to be controlled and bullied any longer. Eventually, he accepted it and they became equal rulers of their nations. The joint reign allowed both Scotland and France to flourish, but their marriage slowly died.

Mary and Francis came to accept that the love they once shared was no longer there. They tried so hard to stay together, continuing to try for a child despite the lack of passion, but to no avail. They were childless and loveless, the opposite of how their fairytale was supposed to be written.

They maintained deep adoration and respect for one another, and remained both friends and family to one another. After acknowledging the lack of love in their marriage, they had grown closer to each other, allowing themselves to be better friends.

But nothing could be done to restore their old flames. Perhaps it was truly never meant to last. Marrying Francis was good political choice that benefitted two nations, but did nothing for her heart.

Lola, now married to Lord Julian who accepted her and her child, had gestured the need to return to her chambers and retire early. Mary decided to do the same and began making her way back to her personal quarters when her thoughts were once more invaded by the mysterious dark-haired man who refused to look her in the eyes.

Over the course of the years, as Mary's love for Francis deteriorated, her heart for Sebastian only grew. She missed him terribly when he was gone. She always hoped he would look at her when they eat on the same table during feasts. She secretly prays that he ask her to dance at every feast and party, but he never does. And the few times she visits Sebastian and Kenna's simple home, she longs for the quiet life that he once offered her.

Mary made her way to the infirmary, where she thought he might be, judging by his wounds earlier. And she was right. Upon entering Nostradamus' sanctuary, she found Bash lying on the chair he was once laid on when he was gravely wounded delivering a message to the ambushed French fleet. That was during Mary's first yearin French court, before she was married to Francis.

Bash was shirtless, and the extent of his injuries made her breath catch in her throat. Bash's left shoulder was cut open, his right side blue with bruises, and multiple other smaller cuts and bruises that made his skin look blotched. Nostradamus greets her a good evening, causing Bash to open his eyes.

"You shouldn't be here. I can still hear the music." Bash said, struggling to sit up. With his bruised side and his lacerated shoulder, he could not prop himself up. Mary rushed to him, and gently pushed him back down.

"You know, so often are you in that chair that we ought to just put your name on it and declare it yours." Mary teased as Nostradamus set a chair for her to closer to Bash.

"No need for that. I'll pity those injuried while I'm healthy or am away." he chuckled and felt around for a blanket. It was not proper to be half naked in front of the Queen, although he has been physically vulnerable in front of her before. That time did not go so well.

"Always so noble. Always thinking of others." she whispered as she absent-mindedly stroked the dark hairs that covered his eyes and forehead.

"I took an oath to always protect this nation and all that it treasures. I am not a liar." Bash says, as he subtley jerks his head away from her tender touch.

Mary remembers a time, long ago, when he swore to cut down anyone who threatened her and stood in her way, when he promised to always put her first. He killed a man to save her from pagans without hesitation, he was willing to take on a responsibility he did not want to save his brother's life, he even saved Sterling. Mary cannot remember the last time he put himself first.

A knock on the door pulled her away from her thoughts. Kenna entered and was taken aback that Mary here with Bash.

"Mary! I thought you'd be at the party with Francis." she said, cautiously stepping forward. Kenna looked at Bash over her shoulder, as if asking if it was okay for her to approach. His eyes gestured her forward.

"I was, but I soon grew bored, and Lola was tired. I wanted to make sure Bash was alright before I retired." she said, rising to her feet to make room for Kenna.

"I assure you, My Grace, that I am perfectly fine." Bash croaked out, struggling to breathe from his injuries. Mary frowned, hating the way _My Grace_ would just slip out from his lips, as if they were nothing more that Queen and subject. Even her ladies-in-waiting do not address her so formally.

Kenna replaced Mary on the seat beside Sebastian. She carefully placed a hand on his head and pushed the hair out of his eyes. He turned his gaze to his wife.

"I'm going to get you some food from the kitchen. Anything you want in particular? I heard they have roast duck for the feast tonight." she said, a kind smile playing on her lips as her hand travelled down to examine his shoulder. Sebastian winced as her dainty fingers landed on a particularly sore spot.

Sebastian and Kenna, after all these years, love each other very much. But they were never, and probably never will, be IN LOVE with each other. After being forced into matrimony by the deranged King Henry, Bash did everything in his power to comfort his distraught new wife.

Kenna shared to the Queen and the Ladies of Bash's kindness to her: bringing her breakfast and making gentle conversation with her. He took her riding and taught her to shoot an arrow. He developed a loving friendship with Kenna that made the marriage, although unwanted, bearable and livable.

They lived as two friends under the same roof. Bash allows Kenna to be in relationships with other men without the risk of being prosecuted for adultery. He said that he will not condemn her to a life without love and passion, just because his father did. Bash's only condition was that she respect the sanctity of their home, and not fornicate with another man in his bed.

Kenna extends him the same freedom, but knows that he has never taken a lover. He trains, he goes to battle, he comes home. Bash remains a loyal brother, a loyal knight of France and loyal husband.

For that reason, Kenna makes sure to be home when Sebastian is, to feed him and care for him, to tend to his wounds and to not allow any of her lovers to be around him. After everything that he's been through, and continues to go through, the least she can do was to try and be a decent wife.

"Some hard liquor would be lovely, but roast duck sounds divine." he gives a small, choked laughter.

Kenna gives him a knowing smile and a kiss on the forehead before rising to her feet.

"Then it shall be done. I'm glad you're back, although barely alive." She rolls her eyes, a habit she picked up from him, and he rolls his eyes right back at her.

Mary casts one last look at Sebastian, who nods her a farewell, before exiting the room with Kenna. After shutting the door, Kenna heaves a heavy sigh.

"Is anything the matter, Kenna?" Mary asks, laying a hand on her arm.

"I'm just afraid that man has a death wish." she whispers sadly, beginning to make her way to the kitchens.

"He's a soldier, Kenna. Being in danger, being wounded, it's all part of his job." Mary offers her words of comfort, although she knows it's futile.

"Then why aren't the others as badly hurt?" Kenna counters. "Sebastian is a brave man, but he is also a selfless man. Although I doubt if all this sacrifice is to save his country or to save himself."

"Save himself? What is he running from?" Mary asks, pulling her friends arm gently to spot her from walking off. Kenna shakes her head at Mary but continues walking. Mary looks at her friend curiously.

"Do you love him, Kenna?" Mary asks, looking at her friend intently in the dim light of the torches.

"You know I do, but not the kind you seem to be implying. What's the real question, Mary?" Kenna asks, raising an eyebrow at her. Bluntness and unabashed honesty was another characteristic she learned from Bash. It made her a better friend, if not a more difficult one. The two women stop in the middle of the deserted hallway.

"Henry forced you to marry him. But when Francis and I rose to the throne after his death, we would have granted you permission to request for annulment. But you never asked, never even brought it up. Why?" Mary asked, her tone dripping with curiousity.

"Bash and I thought about it. He said he will not demand it of me because he does not mind being married to me. He gave me the complete freedom to choose. Bash has been so wonderful to me all these years, and I have grown to care for him deeply." Kenna said, her fondness evident in her soft features. Mary's heart grew sad with envy.

"We may not love each other in the way married people should. But we love each other nonetheless and what we have is better than what some marriages do. I haven't met anyone I would want to trade this all for, so I stay with Bash."

"That's very nice of you, Kenna. Of both of you." Mary says, managing a smile to mask herself in the darkness.

"The only nice one between us both is Bash. We both know he deserves better than me." Kenna laughed, stopping in front of the door to the kitchens.

"He cares for you too, Kenna." Mary gently reminds her dear lady.

"Well, Bash has a knack for caring for people, even when they don't deserve it." she says simply. "I stay because, if there's anything I can truly says about Bash after all this time, is that he doesn't deserve to be left behind."

Kenna gave Mary a small bow and bid her farewell before entering the kitchen. Mary, left to her thoughts in the dark, thought of how the tables have grossly turned on marriage that began out of love has soured, but the marriage forced has blossomed. Time can be such a cheater.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: I am on a roll! Let's see how long I can keep this up. I'm quite excited for the upcoming episode. Once again, I hope you READ and REVIEW. Let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.** I am simply letting my imagination run free.

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_"And I think of you in Glasglow. You're all that's safe, you're all that's warm." Feather on the Clyde, Passenger_

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It was very early in the morning, the sun had yet to completely rise from the clouds. The wind was still whipping cold with the chills of the night. The morning dew remained untouched, except for those stepped on by the man pounding on Kenna's door.

After much hustle and bustle, and a peek from behind the curtain, Kenna found her husband in the doorway.

"Sebastian! I was supposed to fetch you from the infirmary this morning." She said, as she ushered him inside and shut the door behind him.

"Yes, well, I could walk and I could leave. So I left." Bash replied, untying the knot of his cloak at his neck. He pulled the heavy cloak off him, and Kenna took it from his hands to be hung on the peg by the door.

"But did Nostradamus say you could? We wouldn't want you to worsen your injuries, Bash." she gently chastised him. Kenna watched him slowly pace about, fiddling with this and that.

"I get the same injuries as always, Kenna. It's just a matter of combination. This time, it's a mix of cuts and bruises. That's not as bad as broken bones. I'll survive." He smiled, despite the groan that managed to creep its way into his voice.

"Yes, and don't forget about that black eye." she teased as she followed him into the kitchen.

"Ah, yes. The eye. I had forgotten. I thought only half of the world existed for it's only half I can see." he retorted with a grin as he eased himself carefully into a chair. Kenna gave him a sly grin as she threw a white cloth at him. He laughed and caught it easily.

"What's this for?" Bash asked, suppressing his chuckles and holding the cloth in front of him.

"It's to wipe the sarcasm that's dripping to your chin." she replied easily, as she sliced some bread and cheese. A hearty laugh escaped Bash, and the great smile caused his lips to stretch and split open again.

"Ow. Ow. That hurts." He yelped, holding his bleeding lip. Kenna looked over, and seeing his bleeding lip, had her turn of a hearty laugh.

"Good thing I tossed you that rag. Wife's intuition!" she said, clutching the kitchen counter and shaking her head.

"Or wife's conspiracy. You wanted me to split my lip." he teasingly accused as he held the rag to his mouth. Kenna shook her head at him and let that comment slide. She set the bread and cheese in front of him and sat across him.

"You should have at least told me you had the intention of leaving early today. I could have gotten more food at the court's kitchen. I'm still going to the market later to replenish our stocks." Kenna said, running a hand through her hair. Bash set the red-stained coth down, and picked up a slice of bread.

"No matter." He said, taking a small bite of food. "I'm not really hungry. I'd much rather sleep in today."

Bash looked around their humble abode. It has not changed much over the years.

After being violently forced into marriage, Kenna had no intention of resuming her interactions with the King. It was quite evident to her, and to everyone else, that the King was mentally unwell and was on the brink of destruction.

She would hide from him, staying close to Mary or to Bash, to avoid any chance of being forced into intercourse by the deranged King. She remained a low profile, wanting to stay alive and safe, more than to gain more power and recognition. The King was dangerous, and there was no way of telling what he would do next.

Bash just wanted to be away from Francis and Mary, Kenna wanted to be away from Henry. But they can never move too far away. This union was to keep both of them, threats in the eyes of King Henry, in check. Fortunately, she and Bash were permitted to move out of the castle and into their own home on the outskirts of town shortly after their marriage.

Out here, they had the freedom to live as ordinary people. They buy food and supplies at the market, they befriend their neighbors, they owe nothing to anybody. As a knight of the King, and a Lady of the Queen, they are regarded with much respect by the people. But they are left alone, and it is a privilege that is not given in the castle.

Bash and Kenna live simply, in a spacious bungalow that lets in much light and air. They each have their own chambers, and a room for weapons for Bash. Aside from that room, much of the rest of the house is as Kenna wishes it to be. Their furniture is of wood and wool, nothing grand but serves its purpose. They did not furnish much, for they spend most days in the castle as their duties require, and return home in the evenings. But they have made the house a home, comfortable and welcoming, even though they rarely have guests, save for Kenna's lovers.

After taking a sip of wine, Bash pointed at Kenna's chambers across the house.

"Do you have a guest...?" he asked, the thought just dawning on him as he surveyed his wife. She let slip a soft smile and shook her head.

"Is it still David from the bakery, or it someone new now?" he teased, setting down his goblet and taking another bite of bread. Kenna rose from her chair and began packing the food away.

"It is no one. Now, I thought you said you were exhausted and needing sleep." she said, placing her hands on her hips and throwing him an accusatory look.

"No, I suddenly feel wide awake." Bash rubs his stomach and leans back in his chair. Kenna turns her back to him and puts the food away.

"Go away, Bash." she replies, struggling to hide the grin that pulls on her lips.

"Keeping secrets now, are we, wife?" he continues to tease, leaning his elbows on the table. "What aren't you telling me?" Kenna places her hands on her hips once more, facing him in a defensive position.

"There is nothing to tell, hence, I'm not telling you anything. Go to sleep, husband." she states jokingly, but firmly. Bash raises his hand in defeat and gets up from his chair. Kenna turns back around and cleans the kitchen, listening to Bash's shuffling steps get softer and softer, before disappearing behind a shut door.

She finishes with the kitchen and dresses up to leave. She gets her wicker basket and leaves a note on the tablefor Bash, saying she was off to the market to buy food and drink, promising a swift return. Kenna pulls on her cloak and, with a final glance at Bash's closed door, shuts the front door behind her.

* * *

Life at French court has begun for the day. There is much movement in the castle, as its tenants stir and wake, preparing for the day ahead. But its King and Queen are already wide awake and have begun their duties hours ago. King Francis was pacing back and forth in his study, feeling the aching throb at the back of his neck along with the seering gaze of his wife.

"The Portugese are closing in on the shores. We must send 2 companies to meet them." Francis said, halting his pacing to face his wife.

"No, I don't think there's need for that. It may be an amicable visit. There has been no inidication that they mean us harm." said Mary, attempting to appease her husband.

"Well, the last time a Portugese extended a helping hand, it was a hand that burned us all. I don't think so, Mary." retorted Francis, reminding her of her fleeting and horrifying engagement to Tomas, the violent heir of the Portuguese throne.

"We must send our men immediately. I will send for Bash and have him assemble his men." Francis said, gesturing to the guard by the door for a messenger. Mary halted him with astonishment.

"Francis! Did you not see the state of your brother yesterday?" Francis simply blinked at her.

"Well, what of it?" Mary let out a baffled breath, as if the wind was knocked out of her.

"What of it?! Francis, your brother has been battered! Now, you want to send him and his men off again for what is most likely an amicable visit?" Mary countered, blocking Francis from the messenger who has appeared by the door.

"Are you challenging me because you think I'm genuinely mistaken, or because this is Bash we're talking about?" Francis spat out, placing his hands on his hips and cocking his head to the side, glaring at his wife."Because I think your heart is clouding your head again, Mary." he accused.

"And I think the same of you, Francis." she threw back at him, crossing her arms in front of her. "After all these years, I still don't understand what you have against your brother. He is married and we are married. It's high time you stop acting like a child, is it not?"

Francis opened his mouth, as if to give another counter argument, but he snapped it shut again. After some thought, he spoke in a calmer tone.

"Fine then. Send who you wish. But if the Portuguese do attack, this is on your head." he said simply, turning his back on Mary and returning to his desk.


End file.
